Sanctity of Avalon
by Isaac A. Drake
Summary: The Dark Lord was cautious when he attacked the one who was foretold to destroy him. His contingency plan allows a swift return and a swifter destruction of Wizarding Britain. Dumbledore and the survivors must keep the Heir of Arthur and the Heir of the Seven Songs safe, or else the future will be dark indeed. Avalon awaits. Fantasy Adventure fic, light OC pairing, no bashing


Author's Note: SO I was reading the Dark Wars Saga by Marquis Black and this little plot bunny I'd been entertaining for a few years now decided it had to be written. The premise is, of course, that Voldemort would have taken a few extra precautions in light of the prophecy to make sure things didn't go too badly for him.

Chapter 1: Escalation

Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange sat stiffly in one of the many decadent rooms of Malfoy Manor. On this night of Halloween, 1981 they had been commanded by their master to wait in this room with their captive, an ornate chest, and a large obsidian cauldron.

Apparently they would be joined by Bartimeus Crouch Jr. with the final components of a ritual if their master's current mission did not go as planned. The Dark Lord was anything but careless, his plans often had six or seven back ups and contingencies.

That was why they were winning the war. Dumbledore had assumed that he had not been active in Britain before the official unveiling of the Death Eaters in 1970.

Dumbledore was wrong. Riddle's clique from his Hogwarts years had been secretly working to infiltrate and weaken Ministry of Magic ever since he called them back together just before leaving Britain to study the Dark Arts in Albania, right after he'd acquired Hufflepuff's Chalice from Hepzibah Smith.

Bellatrix's father in-law had been part of that group. He along with the Avery, Rosier, Mulciber, and Nott of that time had used their money and wealth to ingratiate themselves to the Ministry, some even gaining seats on the Wizengamot in order to manipulate legislation.

No, what the Order of the Phoenix thought as the "beginning" of the war had in fact been a long time coming. The Mudblood and Muggle murders and the outright control of Ministry members via Imperius Curse were all simply an escalation and cover for the more insidious manipulations that the Death Eater High Council had been working on for over a decade.

They were still winning the war. Even the loss of the giants hadn't completely destroyed their momentum. However with the deaths of Rosier and Wilkes and Crouch Sr.'s damnable allowance of Unforgivables they were being slowed down.

Tonight would change that; tonight would swing it back from a slow but inevitable victory of attrition to a swift and total victory for their righteous and pure goals.

Tonight the Potters died, a prophecy would be averted, and their Lord would never have anything else stand in his way again.

The death of the Potters would destroy the morale of the opposition and the aversion of that prophecy their Lord spoke of would crush Dumbledore's will as well.

Their captive struggled and let out muffled screams through his gag.

"Oh DO shut up you wretch. _Crucio._" Bellatrix's calm and cold love for torture was her most fearsome trait. The captured man thrashed and screamed under the curse before finally falling silent, tears running down his face.

It was at this point that Crouch Jr. rushed in holding a bundle of cloth that appeared to be covering something else.

"Things did not go as planned. Prepare the ritual. We have barely half an hour until midnight, it cannot be preformed again until the Spring Equinox!" That statement got both Lucius and Bellatrix moving in a flash. They swiftly opened the chest and started preparing the potion necessary.

Bellatrix quickly filled the cauldron with a jug of sulfuric water from a volcanic stream that sat on a leyline while Lucius took out a rib bone from the box.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" Lucius tossed the bone into the sparking water and the potion sizzled and turned a sick and poisonous blue.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master!" Crouch had set the bundle down nearby on an altar made specifically for that as he sliced a thick chunk of flesh off of his bicep. No bone could contaminate the ritual at this part or it would be weaker, the blood was okay as it indicated fresh flesh. The potion began burning a fiery and deadly scarlet.

Bellatrix gleefully withdrew a silver anthame with an obsidian handle and walked over to their captive. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken," At this she stabbed their captive right in the heart, killing him instantly as his eyes widened. She walked over to the cauldron after removing the blade and shook the blood into it. "You will resurrect your foe!" As the potion turned a blinding white Crouch quickly took the bundle he had placed down and allowed its contents to slide into the potion.

The naked and wrinkled homunculus hosting their master's soul triggered the potion. Steam the same blinding white as the potion's last phase shot up into the air.

When it cleared the Dark Lord Voldemort stood proudly. "Robe me."

Crouch quickly, ignoring the pain and blood on his arm, brought forth their master's dark robe.

"Wand." Bellatrix placed his bone white wand into his hand; it had been brought there by Crouch as well.

The dark lord stepped out of the cauldron and hissed angrily.

"Things did not go completely according to plan. I killed the blood traitor and his mudblood wife but that damned child…she found a way to protect him. The Killing Curse rebounded."

Bellatrix gaped, "But my lord that is…surely…"

"Yes my dear, that is indeed how it occurred. Ancient blood magic. How she found such is beyond me, for even I know not of what she did exactly so much as what it was based on. However we can use this to our advantage." At this a cruel smile fell upon his lips. "After I decide on whether I should keep this…intimidating form, or return to my old one, we shall wait for the opportune moment to strike and break their spirits for good."

At Lucius's questioning gaze the smirk became even wider, "We shall simply have to crash my funeral party."

Lucius gave his own grin at this while Crouch let out a hissing laugh.

Bellatrix had walked over to the corpse of their former captive.

"You hear that cousin? We're going to crash a party you silly mutt!" Her evil cackling put even the Crouch's disturbing hissing to shame.

0o0o0o0

Dumbledore had just returned to Hogwarts after delivering Harry to the Dursleys. He wasn't one hundred percent sure about his decision but he knew that at least until all the Death Eaters were safely locked away the boy had to remain behind those wards. Only one place had stronger wards, even Hogwarts wasn't as safe as the Dursleys currently.

The only stronger option was not really an option. Dumbledore could not even get in at the moment. The need was not great enough, especially with Voldemort dead.

As he strode into the Great Hall he was met with the strangest occurrence.

Sibyl Trelawney immediately jumped at him, grabbed the front of his robes and began raving.

"We are doomed! You have doomed us all Dumbledore! Dead? DEAD YOU SAID? Yes, yes, WE are all dead! By Winter Solstice of the fifteenth year from this day everyone in this room will be dead because of you! The Heirs will not be able to save those of us that stand here. No no no. I have seen it! I have seen it all!" At this point blood began to drip from her eyes.

"I have seen the Heir to the Seven Songs and his mentors! The man with one eye, the man with one arm, and the man with no heart! I have seen the Heir of Arthur. The only one left! The Princess of Shadows! All the rest will suffer! Save them both before your time comes Dumbledore! SAVE THEM BOTH OR THE WORLD SHALL F-uggh." Blood was now streaming out of her eyes and ears and with one final cough of blood from her mouth Trelawney's eyes rolled back into her head and she fell dead to the floor.

The entire staff of Hogwarts and the few students that had stayed throughout the war stared in horror at their Headmaster.

Then the panic began.

0o0o0o0

It was six days after Voldemort's demise at the hands of Harry Potter. Minister Bagnold was holding a huge press conference.

"The Dark Lord is dead! Brought to his knees by an infant no less!" Cheers.

"Never again shall we live in such dark times! Never again will we suffer a reign of terror such as this!" More cheers.

"Forever shall we be in the debt of Harry Potter and his parents! The Boy Who Lived is a hero to us all." For some reason there was silence.

"No Dark Lord will ever…terrorize these shores again." Bagnold wasn't sure why people were looking behind her in fear.

"I…we…" Clapping. Slow clapping. Coming from behind her. And a dark, hissing chuckle. She turned around and looked behind in horror.

"Such a wonderful speech Millicent. Such a great orator you are." The Dark Lord paused and looked around himself in faked bewilderment.

"Oh I'm sorry am I interrupting? Well I wouldn't want to deprive you all of this glorious funeral party." And evil his left his mouth as his eyes narrowed and glowed with fire.

"However the party isn't for me anymore…it's for you. _MORSMORDRE_!" He shot his wand out above his head and as the Dark Mark stretched across the atrium of the Ministry his Death Eaters appeared.

It was a slaughter, a bloodbath, and a massacre. In one hour, due to them relaxing their guard, the ministry fell.

0o0o0o0

Dumbledore had not attended the press conference. Instead he was in his office working on the devices that would keep track of the wards on Privet Drive.

A good thing he was because they began blaring warnings at him just as the attack on the press conference was occurring.

He let Fawkes flame him to Privet Drive just before Snape, who had been staying at Hogwarts for his own safety, came running in to announce that his Dark Mark was burning more than ever.

Dumbledore had quickly dispatched of the Death Eaters attacking Number 4 Privet Drive. However the Dursleys had be in the yard when the ambush occurred and had died.

He quickly went into the house and followed the cries to the bawling form on young Harry James Potter. He was concerned that the basinet was in cupboard under the stairs but had no time to give it thought.

The need had just become great enough that he would be able to access the one place more protected than his blood wards on Privet Drive.

Avalon.

0o0o0o0

As a holder of an Order of Merlin, First Class, the true Order of Merlin, led by one Nicolas Flamel, had approached him. They had revealed a stunning and hidden history about Merlin, Arthur, the Old Gods, and Avalon.

So here Dumbledore stood, holding an infant in his hands, on the shores of the beautiful and magical island of Avalon, resting place of both Merlin's Staff and Arthur's sword and body.

The body and staff both lay at the center of the island. The staff had turned into the Great Tree of Avalon upon Merlin's death and its planting there, right above Arthur's grave. And so the tree of Avalon had grown on an island in the middle of the magical lake that sat in the center of the island of Avalon, in monument to both the One True King and his wizard. The seven runes, representing the seven aspects of Merlin's power were vividly glowing on the tree. They had been carved into his staff and had always glowed when it was in use.

As Dumbledore stood at the foot of this great tree a form emerged from the water behind him.

"Hello my lady." Dumbledore greeted without turning around.

"_I have sensed the danger, Dumbledore. And I have allowed you entrance to Avalon accordingly. How may we aid thee?"_

"Dear Lady of the Lake…I must ask that you care for this child and allow me and several others to reside on this Isle to care for, train, and teach this boy. For he is our last, only, and greatest hope."

The ethereal woman moved closer and carefully caressed the infant's face. "_Yes…yes he is. More than you could ever know." _She took the boy from the old man's arms and held him close.

Britain was falling to the Dark Lord.

But even though the days grew ever darker, and the years would grow ever more dismal, they would eventually find hope.

For Harold Jamison Potter, was safe in Avalon.


End file.
